


The Dogman

by Aboywhowantedtobegod



Category: Fallout 3
Genre: Blood and Gore, Horror
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-05-09 18:11:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5550326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aboywhowantedtobegod/pseuds/Aboywhowantedtobegod
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A merchant group is trying to make their way to Rivet City to rade, but most of the roads are blocked off by rubble. The only way to get there is through the subway, where stories of the dogman come from… Inspired by Darkotha's character of the same name. Rated M for gore and violence</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Washington D.C. What a shithole. Thought Damian, looking through the destroyed capital, nothing but a broken memory of it's former splendour. In addition to the hordes of raiders, super mutants, and all other manner of job hazards traders and merchants would encounter without fail, many of the pathways were blocked off by destroyed buildings. While someone might be lucky enough to climb over the rubble if they were daring or agile enough, it was impossible for a caravan with a Brahmin to even attempt such a feat.

"Son of a fucking bitch, how are we going to get to Rivet city at this rate?" Shouted one of his companions, recognising it as the voice of his eldest son, Maximillian. Though Damian considered Max his own blood, he was actually an orphan slave who he bought at an auction. Damian didn't much appreciate slavery, and would liberate them whenever he could. He had his fair share of scars from freeing slaves from slaver camps, but when he saw a young Max for auction, he didn't want to risk the life of the boy, and bought him. He had been with him ever since. He was now eighteen, tall and slender, with soft muscles. His long dirty blonde hair fell down to the butt of his combat shotgun, which was holstered comfortably to his back.

"We'll find a way. We always do…we could always swim the river?" This time the voice was that of his soft spoken wife, Sarah. Despite being almost fifty – a rare feat in the wasteland – she looked as though she was in her late twenties. The only features that betrayed her age was her long silver hair and the wrinkles around her eyes, which could easily be mistaken for smile wrinkles. She was easily the shorter and weakest of the group, but she lacked in physical strength, she made up for in intelligence and endurance. "It's a dangerous bet, but do you think we could manage it?"

"I don't think so," Damian said, shaking his head. "That water is irradiated to hell, and I doubt we have enough rad-x or radaway between us to make the trip."

"Plus the Brahmin would tire and drown before we got too far," Said Jane, Damian's only daughter. She was the spitting image of her mother, with the only exception being her softer features and her dark hair. She went up next to the Brahmin and rubbed its right head gently, causing the large cow to snuffle contentedly. "Bessie is a strong girl, but she even couldn't swim that trip,"

"And there's the mutants and raiders to consider as well," this came from their guide, a member of a mercenary group called Reily's Rangers they had hired. The tall guide was named Roger, and this was his first job for the company. "You thought they were bad in the wastelands, their numbers only get thicker the deeper into DC we go,"

"Well then, what do you propose we do then, Roger?" Damian asked.

"There is a network of old subway tunnels that run throughout DC. There is one entrance not to far off from here, and it should take us a couple of days to get to Rivet city," Roger stated. However, there was a lingering tone in his voice that the rest of the group easily picked up on.

"But…?" Max impatiently inquired, tapping his foot on the broken concrete, kicking up small puffs of dust with each movement.

"There's some raiders and ghouls down there. It's nowhere near as bad as it was since the brotherhood started up project purity a few years ago. But there's also the Dogman."

"The…Dog…man?" This meek little squeak came from a small figure clinging to Sarah's leg. Daryl, Damian's second son and the youngest of the group at nine years old.

"It's only supposed to be a story, but folks who have walked into those tunnels claim hearing insane giggling and seeing a man with a dog's head and s knife running around. The same people have claimed to have had their gear stolen and animals being lost in their sleeps. An unlucky few have even had loved ones go missing, only to find their bodies-"

"Shut up, you're scaring the kid!" Max barked at the guide, snapping him back to reality. He looked down at the child to see him shaking and clinging ever tighter to his mother's leg, who was shooting Roger a dirty look. Roger cleared his throat, and smiled, trying to reassure the child.

"But it's only supposed to be a story," The guide said, hiding the fact that the people who told these tales weren't exactly the type of people to lie. His words didn't seem to help the child, but Max's words and actions cheered up his little adopted brother. The tall teenager crouched down next to the kid and ruffled his hair playfully.

"Don't worry, lil' tyke. Nobody is going to touch my little bro while I'm around. They try and touch you, and big Maxie will go pow-pow-pow." Max made a gun with one hand and moved it as though he were shooting at something. This made Daryl giggle and smile, which eased up the group. Tensions solved, Damian turned back to the guide and made a motion with his head.

"Come on, Roger, where is the entrance then?"

"Just a bit south,"

"Well, then, let's get going," Damian commanded, and the group made its slow trudge forward. But as Roger was about to head off, Maximillian came up to him and grabbed him by the straps that were on his shoulders, lifting him up. Despite the thick heavier armour and the even heavier man inside the armour, Maximillian didn't seem to have a problem picking up the man.

"Listen here, you prick. You dare scare my fucking brother like that again, and I will make sure you have to crawl home, no matter what my dad or anyone else says. Capisce?" Whispered Maximillian in a harsh, threatening whisper. Though Roger had fought and killed bigger and badder things than the man who was threatening him right now, the low angry tone and bitter look in Max's eyes terrified David, who quickly nodded.

"Oh, we are clear. We are so, so clear,"

"Good…" Max whispered before dropping David back to his feet and slapping the ranger's cheek playfully, the snarl on his face replaced with a smile of false camaraderie. "That's a good boy. Now hurry up, we got a ways to go,"

oo0oo

The normal eerie silence was replaced by the growl of a mutated mutt, then its dying whimper as sharpened metal cut violently against its belly, spilling out its contents. After a few seconds of silence, an evil laugh followed. And then wet slurping as the Dogman dug into his latest feast, still on the edge of life. But then, the rattling of a cage door surprised him, and he quickly retreated into the safety of the shadows, carefully but rapidly making sure he didn't trail any blood. From the darkness, he watched as some new prey stumbled into his lair, and they all looked around his recently slain feast.

oo0oo

"Daddy, is it still alive?" whimpered Daryl, clinging ever tightly to his mother's trouser leg, both sickened and somewhat fascinated by the twitching, gory corpse.

"Yeah…Look away, Daryl. I'm going to put this dog out of its misery," muttered Damian. Even though Daryl quickly closed his eyes, Sarah also covered her youngest child's eyes with her hand. Crouching down next to the whimpering, dying dog. Damian hushed and stroked the dog's matted fur, comforting it in its last moments. Pulling a long blade from his belt, the glint of steel and scrape of metal against metal startled the dog slightly, but it was in no shape to do anything other than watch.

"It's ok, boy…shhhhh….it's ok…" Damian continued to pet the dog as he plunged the blade quickly into the dog's throat, ending its suffering. A few moments after its death, Damian continued to pet the dog, the slightest hint of tears in his eyes. Wiping them quickly, he stood up straight and wiped the bloodied blade on the edge of his trouser leg before sheaving the blade.

"Come on, let's keep moving. And keep your wits about you. Whatever did this cant be too far away."

oo0oo

The dogman watched as the new intruders left his prey dead on the floor and go into the subway system. Once their voices had disappeared into the darkness, he quickly crawled towards the downed corpse and continued to eat. As he munched and slurped on the raw innards, his mind thought only of the prey that stumbled into his web. And though the dog satisfied him for now, it wouldn't be long before he started hunting again.

The Dogman was always hungry.

So hungry…

(Notes: Ok, this story has been sitting in my documents for a while, and even though I already have several projects on the go, I'll upload this one as well, since I intend it to be fairly short. Pleasenote this character is not mine, but he is inspired from the web series "The DC Chronicles" on Youtube. You guys should check it out. It's pretty good. Hope you guys enjoy this story and ADIOS!)


	2. Chapter 2

"Christ, man! You never said these tunnels would go like this!" shouted Max, the torch taped to his weapon one of the only sources of illumination for the group.

"I'm pretty sure we are going in circles, this place looks familiar," grumbled Jane, holding a flashlight in one hand while holding a pistol in the over, looking around nervously.

"That's because we HAVE been here before!" Damian pointed out, looking annoyed at a large blown up map stuck to one of the walls of the metro tunnels. While the station they were looking for would take them directly to Rivet city, they were on the exit that would take them to the Mall, a vast area that Damian wanted to avoid at all costs. Though there were rumours of a ghoul settlement nearby, he didn't want to take chances. He had heard the place was also full of super mutants and slavers.

"Look, we aren't as lost as it seems," Roger wanted to point out, tracing a tunnel network with his finger. "If we just follow this network here, we should be able to get to the city no problem."

"You know what, actually? We'll rest up for the night," Damian commanded. "We have been chasing our own tails and quite frankly, we are all exhausted. Trying to find our way out in this state will do us no good. We'll make camp for the night," and just as he finished his sentence, a scuttling sound and a metal can clanging made them all jump. This caused both Max and Roger to fire blindly down the subway tunnel, only stopping when Damian ordered them to stop.

"CHRIST! We don't know what's in here, do you want to draw whatever is in here straight to us? Because you are doing a fine job of it," Damian barked, slapping his son at the back of the head.

"I heard something!" Max challenged, squaring up to his father.

"You heard a rat!" Damian shouted, grabbing the barrel of his son's shotgun and forcibly pointing it downwards. Sure enough, there was a normal sized rat that had crawled its way into a can. Max's shells had made short work of the can and the rat inside. Damian sighed, and grasped his son's shoulder. "What do I keep telling you, son?"

Sighing, Max holstered his shotgun and recited the lesson he had heard a million times over. "Don't fire my gun until I know what I'm shooting at," he growled.

"Exactly, and I hardly think one rat is worth all those shells," Damian half joked, hoping to get a laugh out of his son, but instead only getting a grumpy look. Rolling his eyes but still smiling, he walked over to the rest of the group. "Alright, we'll make camp here. Max, you are on first watch duty,"

"Got it,"

"We'll change once every three hours, but we won't stay long….this place give me the creeps," Damian whispered.

oo0oo

When everyone decided to retire for some rest, they elected to go without a fire. Though it would be a small comfort – some light in the darkened tunnels as well as warmth – it would act as a magnet to whatever lurked deep in the tunnels. Thankfully, by the time Max had settled in for his shift, his eyes had already adjusted to the darkness, though that did nothing to put him at ease. The sounds of his companions soft breathing and Bessie's snuffling were all he could hear. His nerves were on high alert, and from his current position, he could see down the tunnel if anything tried to sneak up on him.

At least that's what he hoped for.

Little did he know that something else was already in here and had his eyes on him.

oo0oo

Decades of living in the dark had turned the dogman into the perfect ambush predator. He could tell that Max was healthy and strong. A direct assault would yielded little chance for success. He had to become one with the darkness. When usually he would dash upon unsuspecting prey, instinct told him that Max was already expecting something. So he adopted the slow and steady approach. He lay prone on the floor and relaxed his muscles and breathing, moving his body at the slowest possible rate, occasionally stopping to feel around for any laying debris that would betray his presence.

Closer and closer he crept...

Max still continued cleaning his shotgun, unaware of the approaching danger.

So closer and closer the dogman crept...

Closer...

Closer...

He was right next to Max now, who was still none the wiser to his attacker's presence.

With a slow and delicate pace, the dogman reached forward and grabbed the first thing he felt, a ruptured can with a dead rat inside it. Finally, he took a chance and threw the can behind him. His gamble paid off as the can hit the wall, and Max jumped to attention. The dogman heard the young man whispering as he walked towards the sound.

"Don't shoot until you know what you are shooting at, don't shoot until you know what you are shooting at..." he continued to mumble as the dogman stealthily adjusted himself to avoid being stood on. When Max had his back to the dogman, that was when he finally struck. Jumping up to the balls of his feet, in one smooth motion, he brought a knife out of belt and cut deep into Max's throat, using his free hand to muffle the gurgling screams.

It was over quickly for Max.

The corpse was too heavy to carry. He would have to be drug to his lair.

And the rest of the prey would follow suit.

(Notes: Finally updated this bitch! I apologize for not having updated sooner. Been super busy. If you like it, feel free to follow this story and check out my other ones. If you love it, please check out my Patron as Charlie Keates! It would mean a lot. Thanks again and adios!)


	3. Chapter 3

Damian awoke with a strong feeling of anxiety and concern. When his life constantly flirted with danger, he subconsciously learned to sleep lightly. When Max hadn't turned in for his watch, his father knew – even within sleep's grasp – that something was wrong.

At first glance, it was apparent that his gut feeling was correct.

Max was nowhere to be seen.

Damian's automatic response was to roll over to the edge of his mattress to grab his gun, simultaneously throwing himself up to full height, ready for a fight. His eyes, long used to the darkness, didn't see anything. He had learned long ago when surrounded by darkness, to not focus on shapes, but movements instead. When he couldn't see anything, he flicked on the torch attached to the front of his rifle, swivelling it to and fro in a slow scanning motion.

Still nothing.

Slowly stepping forward, he only made a few short steps before his boot made a dull splash. He looked down to inspect what it was. Against the pale cement, there was a dark red trail that – upon inspection – led into the distant shadows. It started off as a large puddle, thinning out into a trail as it continued off into the darkness. Damian feared the worst. Though he had years of experience in violence and horror, it was still a challenge to swallow the rising feeling of trepidation in the pit of his stomach.

A feeling that only multiplied instantly when he heard a whispering voice behind him.

"Damian...What's going on?"

Her voice was heavy with sleep, but Damian could still hear the undertone of worried curiosity in her voice. With the torch pointed away slightly from his wife, he could see her shake her head from side to side.

"Where's Max?"

This time, any hint of tiredness in her voice was gone, the panic of a mother searching for her baby consuming her tone. Her tone and slowly increasing volume was enough to stir the rest of the group from their sleep. Daryl rubbed his eyes, still half asleep and still in his mother's embrace. Roger and Jane were rolling for their equipment and scrambling to get up in their feet. When Roger flicked on the switch for his torch, the light reflected off of the dark liquid, forcing Damian to look again, his worst fears doubly confirmed.

Blood.

Sarah followed the trail with her light deeper into the subway, her heart breaking with every foot she followed. However, she thought to herself she had to stay tough for her family and tried her best to keep her emotions in check, even Daryl tugged on the sleeve of her thick jumper.

"Mama, where's Max?" The small child asked, his genuine curiosity a contrast to the adult's very real horror. Sarah put on her best forced smile and stroked the little boy's matted hair.

"I don't know, honey, but we'll find him," Sarah felt a small tremble wavering in her voice, betraying her confident facade. She sincerely hoped Daryl didn't pick up on it. However, Damian noticed and walked towards his hunched over wife and child, hooking his gun over heis shoulder and placing one reassuring hand on his wife's shoulder, the other tussling his son's hair, causing the small child to giggle.

"Yeah, we'll find him," Damian agreed. He wasn't lying to the poor boy, but he didn't want to reveal his greatest fear to him. Though the amount of blood spilled said otherwise, Damian clung to the unlikely chance that his adopted son was still alive, and he wanted Daryl to keep thinking his older brother was alive and well.

But if he wasn't...

Woe to the poor beast that took his son away from him.

Oo0oo

The dogman dragged his bloody corpse deeper and deeper into his lair, panting with excited hunger. The scent of blood was overwhelming, consuming the Dogman's thoughts, demanding he throw caution to the wind and tuck into his meal. But instinct and experience taught him better than to do such a foolish act. Even now, he saw torchlight in the distance, though it was far enough away from him and wouldn't be able to pick him up. It actually gave him some satisfaction that he wouldn't need to go out of his way to hunt his prey.

His prey was actually coming to him.

As he continued, he developed another thought, strained aginst his overwhelming hunger.

The prey was following the body.

Perhaps he should leave them something...

Oo0oo

Damian couldn't believe it. Though the only expression of his shock and surprise was his slightly raised eyebrows, he was screaming internally. Daryl and Jane weeped, the older woman trying to cover the small boy from the sight, Sarah was in her knees in a stae of paralyzed shock, and Roger was throwing up violently against a nearby wall.

On a single metal pole, was Maximillian's head, tendrils of sinew and muscle dangling out of his severed neck, dripping blood.

Hope left Damian's body, only to be consumed be a fiery rage.

Damian vowed to find his son's body.

And murder the beast who did this.

(Notes: Finally updated this bitch! Plan to have at least one death per chapter from now on, i don't intend this to be a long one, just a nice short something. I hope you guys enjoy! Thanks for reading and adios!)


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